


Dance This Mess Around

by guttergal



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Bodys by Car Seat Headrest, Dancing, Drunk Dancing, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Shenanigans, Enemies to Lovers, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Getting Together, Halloween, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Music, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Simon Snow, Party, Partying, Pining Simon Snow, Sharing a Bed, Simon Snow Loves Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, anyways listen to car seat headrest, car seat headrest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25247584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guttergal/pseuds/guttergal
Summary: Simon wants to get drunk at a Halloween party to try and forget about the fact that he has a huge, stupid, disgustingly messy crush on Baz Pitch, but by the end of the night the alcohol only reveals his true feelings towards him. (or, Simon and Baz dance like idiots together)
Relationships: Dev & Niall & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Simon Snow & Agatha Wellbelove, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 14
Kudos: 179





	1. Sick of Meaning

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really excited about this fic :+) it's the most I've written in a long time and I'm very proud of it. This fic (and probably a few others in the future) is heavily inspired by songs from the band Car seat Headrest (specifically Bodys and Big Jacket), they're an amazing band and have incredibly raw lyrics and music, so I'd really recommend them if you haven't listened to them already. Enjoy :+))

“Okay,” I say, Penny giggles from beside me as we both prepare to take a shot, the glass filled to the brim with vodka, “one...two...three!” We both tilt our heads back and slam the empty glasses onto the table at the same time.

I can feel the alcohol burn my throat as it goes down. The warmth settles in my chest, and bubbles up to form a smile on my face. It feels good. I watch Penny as she squeezes her eyes shut and sticks out her tongue in disgust, but her face soon melts into the goofiest smile I’ve ever seen on her before she throws up her arms and lets out a loud ‘whoop!’. She doesn’t typically like big parties like this one, and neither do I, but Halloween parties are an exception. We get to dress up in costumes and get drunk with each other, what’s not to love?

Despite how huge Niall’s house is, the crowd is still tightly packed and hard to maneuver through. Everyone at Watford is invited to the Halloween party he hosts every year, even me. The sweaty bodies of all the people dancing to a mix of old 2000s and Halloween themed songs keep on nearly knocking both of us over as Penny takes my hand and leads me over to the snack table (which mostly just consists of jello shots with gummy worms in them). The devil horns on her headband bouncing a little bit every time she moves.

She scoops up both of us a cup of spiked punch, smoke rolling off of the liquid in waves. It seems like everyone at the party screams with joy when Dancing Queen comes on the speaker, groups of friends flocking to the dance floor like birds. My eyes find him on the outskirts of the crowd against my will just as both Dev and Niall try to pull him away from the wall and into the sea of teenagers. Each of them take either of his hands, and even though I can tell he’s trying his absolute best to act annoyed, there’s a ghost of a smile on his face.

Baz.

My eyes refuse to look anywhere else but him as the group runs past me and onto the dance floor. Baz’s face breaks into a smile when he shouts “But I’m not the dancing queen!” I can hear Niall yell back that he is before I lose track of them in the rest of the people. Baz disappears, and I’m forced to tear my eyes away only to find Penny staring at me with a big smile spread across her face.

“What?” I question, nervously taking a sip of my drink. I should add more vodka to this.

“Oh do  _ not  _ pretend like you don’t know!” She exclaims.

There’s a few seconds of silence when I take another sip, trying my best not to look at her. Of course I know what she’s talking about, how could I not when it’s practically been the only thing on my mind since? The fact that I, Simon Snow, have a huge, stupid, disgustingly messy crush on Baz Pitch.  _ Baz.  _ I mean, Jesus fucking Christ Simon, you couldn’t have picked anyone else to like?

I remember the conversation that I had with Penny a few days ago as if I’m still living through it. I was laying my head in her lap as she read a big, boring book that I don’t care enough to remember the name of, tracing circles in the grass underneath us and talking about Baz (because when am I not fucking talking about him), when she sighed and put her book down next to her.

_ “Simon,”  _ She said in the most exasperated voice she could muster. I was in the middle of ranting about how perfectly symmetrical Baz’s face is and how nicely his lips are shaped, and I remember turning to look up at her face staring down at me, and just thinking: oh.

“You cannot tell me that you don’t hear the way that you’re talking right now,” She ran her hand over my hair. “Please don’t make me spell it out for you.”

I answered no as if I was asking a question before sitting up from her lap. I felt a sense of impending doom as I actually weighed what she said in my mind, she was wiping the tears from my face before I even noticed that I was crying. “But I hate him,” I said. That was a lie.

It's all been one big lie.

“You should go talk to him tonight!” her voice snaps me back into reality. The music becomes even louder, and I have to scream just so she can hear me.

“I think I’d rather die, but thanks!”

“Oh don’t be dramatic.” She rolls her eyes before raising her cup up to mine. “To finally admitting that you want to kiss Baz!”

“I’m never talking to you again.” I say, trying my best to sound serious only to have it ruined with the smile that creeps onto my face. We softly clink our cups together before downing what's inside them. Penny wipes her mouth on her sleeve, adjusts the feathery halo on top of my head, and drags me onto the dance floor.

-

I lose track of how many drinks I’ve had sooner than I thought I would.

Agatha finally found us in the crowd, and now our hands are interlocked above our heads as we dance together to a song that neither of us know. I have no idea where the angel wings I was wearing went. The room is spinning and I might throw up, but I’ve already danced perfectly to Womanizer with Penny while being cheered on by a small circle of people whose names I can't remember and sang the entirety of Stacy’s Mom without a single mistake, so overall, I feel high enough to touch the moon. 

I just want to forget. 

Just for one night, I don’t want to think about Baz or the way he strides so confidently across the field with his long legs or the smile I can only see every once in a while. I don't want to think about how I wish I was the one who could make him smile like that, or the fact that I’ve probably felt like this longer than I would ever be able to admit. I don't want to think about anything. So, I take another shot.

-

I’ve slowly danced myself away from Penny and Agatha before I realize that I’ve lost them. The ocean of sweaty teens has grown even bigger since Penny and I arrived, so it’s nearly impossible to find them, especially when everything is spinning as much as it is. I think that I’m somewhere in the middle of the floor, given the fact that I can’t even see the tables anymore. 

The lights flash from purple to a sickeningly neon green to orange as I try to squeeze my way through couples and best friends grinding on each other. And then I see Baz again. 

The room is dark and filled with smoke, but I think that I could recognize him anywhere. I’ve memorized the way his body moves, the back of his head, how his hair frames his face perfectly even when he pulls it back into a ponytail. I was an idiot to think that I could’ve forgotten about him. I don’t want to admit it, but he still hasn’t left my mind all night. It’s only been a little bit easier to ignore.

But now, he’s making it fucking  _ impossible. _ I should’ve expected Baz to be an amazing dancer, (he’s perfect at everything else, isn’t he?) but I never thought that he could look this  _ good  _ while doing it. His hair is loose and soft, and it hangs in front of his face in the way that I love, like when he forgets to put his hair up before a game and it gets in front of his eyes and sticks to his forehead with sweat. It moves when he moves, bouncing when he jumps.

I stand for a few minutes watching the way the muscles in his back stretch underneath his thin shirt. He has such nice shoulders. I imagine myself with my arms around them.

The people around me scream when The Weeknd comes on, I find myself moving towards him, my steps moving in sync with the beats of the bass. It makes the ground vibrate.

“Baz!” I shout. I have no idea what I’m doing, but he spins around and I can see his perfect face and the strands of hair stuck to his forehead up close, so a big part of me isn’t really complaining. His brows knit together in the same way they do when he’s trying to work out a homework question.

“Snow?” He slows down, but his body doesn’t stop dancing completely until I reach my hand up to his face, cupping his cheeks in my palms. I know that he’s shocked, but for a split second his face seems completely relaxed. I don’t get to see him relaxed often, but I like it. I like him.

“You have such a pretty face, Baz!” I tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear, his skin is cool underneath my fingertips, “You’re so pretty!”

His lips party slightly and the crease between his brow deepens in confusion before he reaches up and removes my hands from his face. He does it so delicately, moving his hands up and underneath mine and pushing them towards my chest before he begins to turn around.

“No!” I hear myself shout, although I barely registered the words leaving my mouth. I grab his arm, spinning him back towards me. “I want to dance with you.” I stare deep into his eyes, noticing the bags and the faint, purple veins on his eyelids, the fact that he’s looking right back into mine.

“You’re drunk, Snow!” He says, the music and the voices of the other people surrounding us bleed into the background, and I become focused only on his voice. As if he’s the only thing that’s happening. He pulls his arm closer to him, and my body along with it, speaking in a low voice.

“Are you sure you’re saying what you’re meaning to say?”

I break away from him, dramatically throwing my hands out. “I’m sick of meaning, Baz! I’m so sick of it!” I cry, taking his hands in mine and sloppily spinning us around. I really am so sick of it. This doesn’t have to mean anything, not if he doesn’t want it to. It doesn’t. “Just dance with me!”

A song comes on that I know all the words to, I sing to him like I’m putting on a show. Baz’s face breaks into a shy smile and I try to pretend that I don’t think that it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, even though in reality I think my heart actually fucking explodes.

I’m jumping and spinning across the floor pretending as if nothing else matters in the world, with my eyes shut and my curls bouncing with every stupid movement. The alcohol warms my stomach, blurring my vision. And then I stop, just for a second, my eyes falling on Baz. 

He’s standing there with that damn smile on his face with his eyes locked on me, only me. Happiness begins to bubble up in my chest. He’s watching me dance, watching me look so stupid...like in this moment I’m the only thing worth looking at. A smile creeps up on my face again, so wide that it hurts. I want him to look at me like that forever.

But I don’t tell him that, instead I grab his hand and make him spin me around like an idiot. Soon enough we’re dancing together, our bodies loose and dumb and free.

I’m trying my best not to touch his face again, but the lights moving across it look so beautiful on him that I find myself with my fingertips hovering above his skin a few times before I pull away. I wish that he would give me permission. 

Maybe as long as we move our bodies around a lot, we can forget everything else that stops me from telling him that I want to kiss him. I only figured it out a few days ago, but it’s been replaying in my mind since. Me kissing Baz. Baz kissing me. It would be soft yet firm, and my lips would probably be a little chapped but he wouldn’t care at all. And I’d hold myself above him and make him reach up for me, just to see if he would (then he would, he always would).

-

I find Penny and Agatha when the party begins to die down, and when I start to get the feeling like I’m going to pass out. Penny gives me a look when she sees Baz walking beside me that I ignore. 

We all pile up into the back of an uber, laughing and stumbling together all the way back to Watford, where Penny’s brother Premal manages to sneak us back into the gates. The whole time I keep on looking beside me to make sure that Baz is still there, and every single time he’s right next to me. He gave me his big jacket to keep me warm, it smells like him, cedar and bergamot.

I lean on him for support as we walk towards Mummers House (even though he might be just as drunk as I am). It’s a way longer trip than it should be simply because I can’t stop laughing. I fall into the wall before walking up the steps to our room, and I have to lean against it for nearly five minutes trying to calm myself down. I swear that Baz is laughing with me too, because he puts his hand over his mouth to hide his grin, and his eyes squint and crinkle up. They look like little stars. I can only laugh even harder at that. 

Fuck, I have it bad.

We’re eventually able to walk each other up the stairs, I lean on him more than he does me, but I have the strangest feeling that he likes it. He has his arm wrapped around me and the tightest grip on my sleeve. It makes me wonder if he really cares about me. Or maybe he’s holding onto me so tight because he’s the one who would have to deal with it if I hit my head falling down the stairs.

For once, coming back into our room with Baz in it feels more like heaven than hell. It’s warm, and smells like him, the only sound in the room being the shuffling of Baz’s clothes as he takes off his shoes. I wrap his jacket even tighter around my body, knowing that he’s probably going to ask for it back soon.

“Can...I…” Baz stands in the middle of the room, looking at me. I find it hard to focus on my words with my mind so sluggish, “keep this?”

He doesn’t answer me, so I keep on talking. “Only for a little?”

His body shifts in the slightest movement, and his mouth opens like he’s going to say something, but he still doesn’t respond. I immediately feel like I’ve done something horribly wrong, and try to take off the jacket as quickly as I can, mumbling embarrassing apologies. But then I feel him in front of me, sliding the jacket back over my shoulders.

“You can.” He whispers, his voice low and close. Maybe being this drunk just makes me emotional, but that almost makes me want to cry. He spoke so softly, gently. I want to cry both because I love it so much, and because I’m not sure if I’m ever going to be able to hear it again.

I pull the fabric close again, glancing down at my feet before I slowly touch my forehead to his chest. I can feel the coolness of his skin through his shirt, like a cold wash cloth laid over the forehead of a child with a burning fever. 

Baz’s heart skips a beat when I tiredly snake my arms around his waist. I can hear my thoughts screaming at me that this is a bad idea, but by the time the waves reach my limbs to tell them to stop they’re already drowned out. 

My body seems to move on it’s own at this point, I don’t think I could act any other way even if I tried. My movements are pure and unfiltered, I’ve wanted this. I don’t know exactly when I started wanting it, but I can feel it deep in my bones now. For a long time. I’ve wanted Baz for a long time.

Then I bring my face up to his neck, kissing his skin. It’s so soft that I’m not even sure if my lips actually touch him. I think that he’s going to move away from me, but I can feel his hands hovering above my waist too. He doesn’t touch me though, he only speaks.

“You’re drunk, Simon.”

I talk into the crook of his neck, my breath warm. “But I want you, before…” My arms tighten around him, “before I was drunk.”

He lets out a deep sigh, untangling himself from me. But he runs his hand through my hair before he lets go, so maybe that’s a good thing.

“Bed.” He says simply, resting his hands on my shoulders and leading me over to my side of the room. His hands are nice too.

Baz lays me down gently, and I look up at him the whole time, trying to catch it when his hair falls over his eyes in that way that I like. I let him take off the jacket and my boots that make me just a little bit taller, his fingers graze my skin so softly that I think I might almost cry again. He sits on the edge of my mattress, leaning his head on his shoulder and looking right back at me.

“I’m sorry,” I say suddenly. “I’m sorry for breaking your nose and following you to the catacombs and accusing you and hurting you and-“

“Stop talking, Simon.” His voice is stern, but there’s a soft look in his eyes that I swear isn’t just me seeing things. And he called me Simon. Again. “You need to sleep.”

He turns off the lamp next to my bed. I pause for a second. “Only if you stay here.”

“I’ll be right over there.”

“No. With me”

“In your bed?”

“In my bed.”

He huffs like he’s annoyed as he starts to get underneath the covers (but if he was really annoyed he wouldn’t be getting into bed with me would he?) He tells me that he’s only doing it so that I’ll shut up, but he faces me when he lays down, so I feel victorious.

The room is dark and still, making it hard to find his face through the inkiness. But I know that he can see me, so I look back at him anyways, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. Soon, I can start to see the spot where his neck meets his jaw line, and I find myself wanting to reach out to run a finger along his edges. 

I don’t know how it took me so long to figure out that I want him.

“Snow.” Baz breaks the silence, his voice is soft again. The sound swims through my ears, filling my head.

I hum in response, too tired to do anything else.

He touches my face like he’s not sure if he can, cold and awkward against my skin. It still gives me butterflies.

“I want to kiss you.”

That gets my attention, I muster up enough energy to speak.

“Do it.”

He runs his thumb over my cheek. “Not when you’re this drunk.” We sit in silence again, it’s comfortable, but I like it better when he talks again in that voice. 

“You won’t remember it.” He whispers.

“Maybe not, but,” I shuffle a little bit closer to him. “I want to kiss you all the time.”

I hear his breath hitch at that, and we lie together with the shared knowledge between us that I want to kiss him, and he wants to kiss me. In my head, I curse myself for drinking so much (even though I probably wouldn’t have gone up to him if I hadn’t). The world begins to fade, my limbs become numb. The last thing I remember is my lips moving as I whispered to him that he could kiss me any time. I don't know if he heard me though, maybe my voice was too weak, maybe he was already asleep.

I probably would have fallen asleep without him in my bed, but it’s so much easier with him here, nicer. He cools me off.


	2. Never Seen Anyone Quit Quite Like You Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon wants to talk to Baz about what happened between them on Halloween night, but it seems that Baz has other plans when he doesn't come back to their room for days on end. He doesn't eat in the dining hall, doesn't look at Simon in class, and avoids him in the hallways. And Simon wonders if he should just give it up already.

I wake up hot again. 

I pray to whatever’s out there that my hangover won’t be too bad, but I know right when I sit up and have to immediately lay back down that I’ll probably have to skip class today. Well, it’s not like I haven’t skipped class for stupider reasons.

I wrap the covers over my body in a cocoon and roll over, my gaze falling on Baz, sitting on his own bed and reading a book. I think that he’s pretending to read though. Sometimes I steal quick glances at him when he’s reading, and I can tell that he’s sucked into the book by the way he leans slightly forward and the crease between his brow forms. Now he just looks nervous, or bored? It’s hard to tell with Baz sometimes.

“Good morning.” I yawn, he looks at me from the corner of his eye.

“Since when do you say good morning to me?” He questions, pretending to read again.

“I don’t know, since now.” There’s a long pause, I’m simultaneously trying to remember how beautiful Baz looks right now and trying to suppress my nausea. He’s already showered and changed his clothes and slicked back his hair (I wish he wouldn’t do that). He looks so clean. I feel like fucking hell. He sighs eventually, closing his book, finger in between the pages to hold his page.

“You were really drunk last night.”

I hum, “Thanks, I couldn’t tell.” I try to smile at him, but he doesn’t smile back. I try really hard to remember the smiles he gave to me before.

“Do you even remember anything?”

I’m not usually very good at reading people, but I like to think that I’ve become pretty good at reading Baz, maybe better than a lot of others. And right now, I think that he’s a little scared. 

“Um…” I pretend to think really hard, and hope that he can’t see through it. “I mostly remember Womanizer playing.”

Well, it’s not exactly a  _ lie _ , it’s just not the whole truth. I remember everything. Not everything, but everything important. I remember Baz. His shoulders relax, just a tiny bit. And I realize that he doesn’t want me to remember everything. Maybe he just wants to forget it all too, pretend that last night between us never happened. Pretend that we didn’t dance, or touch, or even say a word to each other. 

Maybe he just wants to pretend that he never looked at me like that.

There’s a glass of water on my bedside table that I didn’t put there, I take small sips, trying to pretend that him wanting to forget it all doesn’t hurt like a bitch, trying to find meaning in a cup of water. 

The room falls to silence again, Baz goes back to his book (which I’m still convinced that he isn’t even reading) while I stare hard at the ceiling, trying to keep myself from throwing up, or going off. I don’t think I can handle being in the same room as Baz with everything that’s running through my mind right now, so I try to stand up and see if I feel okay enough to take a shower, but I end up running to the bathroom halfway there.

The stomach acid burns my throat as my body tries its best to get everything that I drank out of my system. With my coughs and harsh gags echoing off the bathroom walls, I feel more disgusting and pathetic than ever. When I’m all done, I feel emptied out, and question if getting that drunk ever again would even be worth it.

I lift my t-shirt over my head and throw it across the room before collapsing into a sweating, shaking mess onto the bathroom floor. I lean my back against the bathtub, my chest heaving as I breathe hard through my lips. I feel like crying. 

Baz walks into the bathroom with me, leaning against the door frame with the glass of water in his hand as if he couldn’t care less. I almost want to tell him to get out, to not even look at me, but I barely have enough energy to lift my head up to meet his eyes. So, I have to let him see me the way I am right now, with my skin covered in a cold layer of sweat and tears threatening to overflow. He sets the water down beside me, and I watch him rummage around in our medicine cabinet before setting a bottle of aspirin on the counter. 

I rest my arm on the edge of the bathtub and rest the side of my face on it, watching the way that he moves, trying hard to burn it into my memory, stain it. He catches me staring at him, but I don’t think that I care. Baz crouches down in front of me and empties the pills into my hand, his fingertips grazing my own just as he pulls away.

I desperately want to reach out and touch his face, to hold it in my hands the same way I held his face at the party. The same way he touched my cheek when he whispered in the dark that he wanted to kiss me. 

I want to run my thumb over the bags underneath his eyes, moving my fingers over his cheek bones and his crooked nose (that I broke). It would be like going on an adventure, mapping out his features and traveling over the smoothness of his skin. I want to memorize every curve of his face, every dip of his body.

I want to touch him. But I’m too gross and unsteady. And he’s distant.

Too far away for me to reach.

I’m still breathing heavily, trying to not think about the taste in the back of my throat. Baz waits for my breathing to steady before he speaks.

“You okay?” He questions.

“Since when do you really care?” I sigh, tilting back my head and letting my eyes flutter shut.

I remember how tight he kept his grip around me when he walked me up the stairs to our room, and how we would push his body back against mine when I would lean into him too far. I’m angry that the feeling of his arm around me is something I might never feel again. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything, but all I want to do is hold him.

He rolls his eyes. “I just don’t want to be the one who has to carry you to the nurse.”

_ Would you really mind carrying me, Baz? Would you?  _ I think, but I don’t respond to him. I’m worried that there’s nothing I can say to him right now that will end well for either of us. If Baz wanted to acknowledge what happened between us last night, he would have. He shifts like he’s about to stand up, but I stop him, trying not to think about the way I clung to his arm last night when he pulled me closer.

“Baz.” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

“What, Snow?”  _ You called me Simon before. _

“Do you remember anything?” I ask.

He looks away from me at that, standing up quickly and simply saying “No,” wearing his deadpan face that he's so good at putting on. He looks down at me on the ground, making me feel small in the way I don’t like. 

“I’ll bring you the homework later.” Is all he says before he turns and walks out of our room, leaving me on the bathroom floor in a haze of confusion.

It’s funny that he thinks I can’t tell when he’s lying.

-

Sure enough, Baz leaves the homework that I missed for the day in a neat pile on my bedside table, but it’s the only thing that’s there when I wake up late in the afternoon. 

Baz isn’t there when I wake up, and he doesn’t come back to our room for the entire night (I stayed up until four in the morning waiting for him). And even though I catch glimpses of the back of his head in the hallways, he’s not in our room when I come back to it the next day. Or the next. Or the day after that.

After the third day, part of me starts to wonder if Baz ever existed at all, or if he was just a figment of my imagination that I came up with (because no one can be  _ that  _ pretty and still be real). But of course I know that he is, because his grip on my arm and the coolness of his skin are some of the realest things that I’ve ever felt.

I see him sitting in the front of the class, but he hasn’t looked at me since the morning in the bathroom, not even a single  _ glance _ in my direction. I look at him. I watch his hands glide through his hair when he runs his fingers through it, and the muscles of his back when he shifts in his chair. I watch his slender fingers tap against the table when he’s trying to think really hard. 

I watch him just like I always have, but now it kind of feels like looking at a ghost, like I’m hallucinating.

I try to catch him after class, but he’s always gone before I can even finish packing up my things.

It’s only been a few days, but I never realized how much I like hearing him talk, even when he’s saying something rude and snarky. I feel like I’m having some sort of withdrawal. 

I thought it would be easy to settle with the fact that Baz wants to forget about everything that happened Halloween night. We’ve been ignoring and fighting with each other for over half of our time at Watford, so what’s a little more time with him ignoring me? But it’s not easy, not at all.

I got a taste of him that night, a taste of his softness, the sweet parts of him that he keeps hidden away. It’s like a drug. 

Or even better for me...a really good meal that I can’t stop thinking about until I get to try it again.

Getting to see Baz all soft like that felt even better than the first time I tried sour cherry scones.

So, it’s not exactly easy to forget.

Penny notices that somethings off on the first day after Baz didn’t come back to our room. But, today is when she finally asks me. I can tell that she’s been dying for it.

She slams her book closed and on the grass next to me, making me nearly jump out of my skin. I already know what she’s going to say as soon as she even opens her mouth. I try to hide behind my sandwich, sitting in front of her with my legs crossed.

“Okay!” She says, her voice sharp and exasperated. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or am I going to have to strangle it out of you.”

“Strangle!” I shout. She rolls her eyes at me, she’s almost as good as Baz is. They could compete in a professional eye rolling contest.

“Yes, Si. What else would I do?”

“Maybe ask nicely?”

“Do I look like I ask for things nicely?”

I shake my head, my curls falling in front of my eyes. They’ve grown out so much since I shaved my head at the start of term. I take another bite of my sandwich, hesitantly meeting her intense stare again.

“Can I finish my sandwich first?” I question with my mouth full.

Penny slaps the sandwich out of my hand, and I gasp like I’ve just faced near death. I’m trying to put it back together, but she keeps on slapping my hands until I eventually give up. I stare sadly at my hopeless lunch in the grass. It was such a good sandwich.

“I’ll get you another sandwich later. Now, spill.”

I groan loudly, putting my hands over my eyes and resting my elbows on my knees. “Ok so, do you remember how we went to that Halloween party?” I say. I look up at her with one eye, peeking out from in between my fingers.

“Yes I’m aware.”

“Well, Me and Baz-”

“Baz and  _ I.” _

“Yes, Penny, we get that you’re a grammar freak- anyways-  _ Baz and I  _ ended up dancing together.”

“You did?” She gets ecstatic. “I thought he just came back with you because he was going to the same place.”

“No, we spent all night together after I lost you guys. It was...really nice, actually...” I trail off, letting a smile take over my face while I think about him dancing. “He gave me his jacket, and helped me walk up the stairs.”

I sit up a little bit straighter, glancing at Penny to make sure she’s listening. She is (of course), intently.

“And when we got back to our room...I hugged him, and- and kissed his neck. He laid me down and I told him to stay. He did. There was something there, Penny...I- there was.”

My throat closes up and burns in the way it does when I’m trying my best not to cry. “He touched my face…”

“He told me he wanted to kiss me.”

Penny’s silent for a moment, processing my words. “Did you?”

“No.” I say. “I was too drunk. We were.”

“What happened the day after? When you skipped?” She questions, her voice is soft now. She speaks like a mother.

“He gave me advil for my hangover, and then he left and didn’t come back to our room. He hasn’t come back for a few days now…” I say, leaning my face on my hand. “I told him that I don’t remember anything.”

“What?” Penny’s voice raises, moving swiftly from soft to enraged in barely any time. “So he said that,  _ that _ , and then just ignores you for days?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” I throw my hands in the air, letting them fall into my lap.

I stare at Penny in defeat while she gathers her thoughts. The bags under my eyes feel heavy.

“I mean…” She starts. “You were both drunk, Si. Maybe he thinks you didn’t mean it.”

“But you know how I feel about him, Pen. I don’t lie when I get drunk, whatever filter I have just disappears. That’s probably the only reason I went up to him in the first place.”

“ _ I  _ know how you feel. Maybe he doesn’t get it yet.” She’s silent for a moment before she says, “Or maybe he does, but he’s not ready for it yet.”

I pick at the grass underneath me, tearing it up. “Or maybe now that he can think straight, he doesn’t want anything to do with me at all.” I mumble.

She throws a worried look at me, I wish I was better at hiding when things are wrong. I feel kind of pathetic talking about Baz like this.

“I don’t think that’s true, Si.”

“How do you know? He only hasn’t come back to our room for what, three days? And I doubt he’s going to come back later.”

“Listen, I know you don’t notice this, but I’ve never seen anyone look as soft as Baz does when he looks at you.” She places her hand on top of mine, the metal of her ring cold from the chilly weather. I remember Baz’s jacket. It’s still hanging on my bedpost, smelling of him.

“He thinks that no one sees it, I do, though.”

I don’t say anything, so she keeps on talking.

“Maybe he needs some time.”

“And I’d give it to him. But I feel like he could’ve at least warned me, I’m having Baz withdrawals now.” I groan, falling down dramatically into her lap, reminding myself of how we were when I finally admitted to myself that I had feelings for him.

“You’ve been having Baz withdrawals for longer than this.” That’s probably true.

“I wish he wasn’t just pretending that nothing ever happened. I thought it would be easy for me to pretend too, but…”

“It’s obviously not.” She finishes.

“It’s obviously not.” I parrot, sighing. I watch the clouds move above me, and imagine myself Baz's face in my hands for the millionth time today.

-

I’ve opened the window, since Baz isn’t here to be a bitch about it, and now I sit on the ledge with my legs swinging out into the open air. 

The sun set several hours ago, and I’m trying to convince myself that I’m not staying up and waiting for Baz to come back, but because I like to look at the stars. And I do, but I know that’s not the only reason. I just try to ignore it. 

_ I wonder where Baz is right now? _

_ Where is he sleeping? He wouldn’t sleep in the catacombs, would he? _

I already went down to the catacombs on the second night, looking for him. He wasn’t there, but I found the spot where I confronted him about being a vampire a few years ago. He was drunk then.

Maybe I wouldn’t be going through this if I didn’t get so drunk at that party.

I know deep in my mind, though, that it would’ve come out eventually. Whether I was drunk or not. Maybe it would’ve been even more of a disaster if I let it build up even more than it already had.

I sigh, looking out over the wavering wood. From here, it almost looks like an ocean, just as vast and deep. The clouds swim over it, covering up some of the stars.

I miss Baz.

I feel like I don’t even have the right to miss him, pretty much all we’ve ever done is fight each other. There’s not much to miss, but I do.

It’s different now. I miss his face, and his voice, and the feel of his skin. I miss how he cooled me off, and the soft parts of him that I got to see.

The soft parts that he thinks I don’t remember.

I miss him, but maybe I should just give up already.

I’ll leave him alone, and he’ll come back to sleep in our room eventually, but I won’t say a thing. Because he thinks I forgot, and maybe soon I will.

But for now, I’ll miss him.

Just a little bit.

The sky begins to lighten, and I tell myself that I only miss him a little bit, but I fall asleep with Baz’s jacket draped over me above my comforter.

-

Today is even harder than the last few, now that I’m actually trying not to think about Baz, or anything to do with him. But it feels like he’s in every corner, even though I’ve barely even seen him for three days straight.

I tried to catch him before he could disappear the second after class ended today, not even bothering to pack up my things after I figured that I could just get them later. I was so close, but before I could reach out to grab his hand he vanished into the sea of students trying to get to their next classes.

So, giving up on Baz isn’t going very well. 

Which, I honestly should have expected from myself.

In fact, today I might even be more desperate than the others to try and talk to him. I even went into the library, where I know he spends a lot of his time studying (I watch him across the room while Penny studies for tests), but he wasn’t there either. If I didn’t see him in class earlier, it would seem like he’d vanished from the face of the Earth.

Today, I didn't even go to the dining hall for lunch. For the first time in the longest time, I don’t feel like eating at all.

Now, I sit on the ledge of the window again, swinging my legs. Penny’s probably wondering where I am, and very concerned that I’d ever miss a meal. But I’m not sure if I have the energy to talk to her right now, or Agatha, or anyone who isn’t Baz (even though I’m sure I’m not going to be talking to Baz any time soon). 

I’ll tell her about it at dinner, and she’s going to give me that face that she does whenever she’s really concerned about me but doesn’t know what to say about it. But then I’ll just say that I’ll be okay.

And I will, but just maybe not right now.

I’m disappointed in myself because of the fact that I couldn’t not think about Baz all day. _For one day._ _Pull yourself together, Simon._

I sigh, swinging my legs higher in the air. If I could fly, I’d swing my legs out even more and jump from the window, and just before I hit the water of the moat I’d shoot up into the sky like a rocket. A cool wind blows in my face sending my curls flying away from it. Imagining myself suspended in the air takes my mind away from everything else I feel at the moment, but it doesn’t last for long.

I forget all about that when I see him walking across The Great Lawn, making his way towards the football pitch.


	3. My Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All confrontations, confessions, and eyes that look like stars.

He looks tiny from here, but I know that it’s him. I’d be able to tell that it’s Baz no matter how far away I am. He strides across the lawn, his hair loose and being pushed away from his face by the wind. His long legs stretch out in front of him with each step he takes, and he looks the same way he does everywhere else: strong, graceful. Fucking Ruthless.

I almost fall out the window as I scramble to pull my legs back inside before racing down the stairs and through the courtyard. I run so fast that I feel as if I’m floating above the grass, and I reach him quicker than I ever thought I could, calling out his name just as he begins to disappear into The Wavering Wood.

He tenses up, but doesn’t look back as he begins to walk faster.

“Baz!” I call again, nearly unable to catch my breath. I try to catch up to him so I can reach out and touch him, but his legs are a lot longer than mine are.

“Baz! Please wait, Baz.” My voice is strained.

“Baz!”

“What?” He shouts with a voice filled to the brim with venom, spinning around to finally look at me. We’re stopped in the middle of a small clearing, him standing tall in the center.

I lean my back against a tree, trying to take in a good breath, tilting my head back. He stands there looking as stiff and irritated as ever. His eyes are dead like outer space.

“Did you chase after me just to say nothing?” He says sharply.

I narrow my eyes, pushing off of the tree and taking a step toward him.

“Why haven’t you been coming back to our room?”

“I have.”

“Not when I’m there, you don’t come back at night. You’re avoiding me.”

“Aren’t I always avoiding you, Snow?”

“No. not like this.”

“What is  _ this,  _ exactly?”

“You know what it is! You don’t sleep in our room anymore, you disappear immediately after class, you haven’t even been going to the fucking dining hall, Baz!” I yell, running my fingers through my hair and pulling at my curls. I must look a little bit crazy right now, but I don’t think I really care.

“You’re avoiding me and you fucking know it! You're hiding.”

“I don’t hide.” He retorts, looking away from me.

“Liar.” I spit. A hush falls over us for a moment, the only sound being the ruffle of the leaves in the cool Autumn wind. His hair moves with the breeze, and I want to brush away the strands of hair stuck to his lips.

“Why have you been hiding from me?” I question.

“Why do you care?” Anger boils up in my chest at his response.

“You know why I care!”

“I don’t. That’s why I asked.”

I groan in annoyance, pulling at my hair even harder. “You know why! You know- you can’t just ignore me like this.”

“I can.”

“But you shouldn’t!”

“And why shouldn’t I be able to ignore you, Snow?”

“Because- Because I, you-” I sigh, letting go of my hair and covering my eyes with my palms.

“You told me that you wanted to kiss me.” I say, my voice sounds broken.

Even the wind seems to come to a halt as my words hang in the air between us. I can practically feel Baz stiffen even though he stands a few feet away from me. He releases the breath he must’ve been holding, it sounds shaky. I take my hands away from my eyes and let them fall at my sides, deciding to stare at Baz’s shoes while I wait for him to say something,  _ anything.  _ They’re expensive, shiny black leather, and the soles make him even taller than he already is.

“I thought you forgot about that.” He says finally. He tries to give his voice an edge, but his attempt comes up short. I’m breaking him down.

“I lied! I lied, Baz. I’m a liar too.” I say, meeting his eyes again.

His brows knit together. “Why would you?” He asks.

“You looked scared, like you were hoping I would. Listen,” I pause, taking a few more steps towards him, my body begs me to reach out for him, to rest my forehead on his chest again.

“I know you want to pretend it never happened, but I can’t do that. I can’t pretend, I can’t forget it.” I look up at him, hesitantly touching his arm, my movements awkward. “I don’t want to.”

He tenses up, glancing quickly at my hand resting on his bicep before pushing me away from him. It’s not hard, not as hard as he’s pushed me before. But I think it hurts more. I keep my intense stare locked on him as the crease between his brow deepens. He stands there, with his eyes on the ground, looking confused. I can tell that he’s trying to think of something to say.

“Snow-”

“It’s Simon.”

“-you were drunk. We both were. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Just because we were drunk doesn’t mean it meant nothing, Baz.”

“It didn’t”

“Look me in the eyes then,” I retort. “look me in the eyes and tell me it meant nothing.” He doesn’t. He can’t.

“I’m not drunk anymore, Baz.”

He doesn’t respond, staring at the ground instead, looking everywhere else but me. So I speak again, taking another (incredibly careful) step towards him.

“It's taken me a long time to figure out, But I like you, a lot…” I trail off. “Like Like you.”

“You sound like a kid.”

“Do I look like I care!” I cry, throwing out my arms. “I want you, Baz. All of you. And if you needed to hear me say it when I’m sober, well, here it is.” He’s finally looking at me again now, I exhale, my breath forming a little puff of smoke in the cold air.

“I want you, if you’ll have me.” I say. “But please, just talk to me.”

He sighs, running his hands up the side of his face and through his hair. I notice just now that they’re shaking “You don’t understand how hard that is...” He trails off.

“I’m scared.” He admits. I don’t say anything for a second.

“Can’t you try for me?”

He lets out a trembling breath, and I want to kiss him. “You’re just- you...you…” He groans in frustration before continuing, I watch him intently.

“You’re just so- so... _ alive.  _ And so full of everything I’ve ever wanted that sometimes I thought loving you- wanting to kiss you, was going to kill me. I just feel so much for you. It’s  _ so much.”  _ He drops his hands from his hair, looking at me with eyes full of fear and longing. The veins around his eyes are more noticeable in this light.

“It’s so much-” he repeats. He begins to pace, moving his hands around as he talks. I watch them, wishing that I could grab them. “-And it’s so messy and embarrassing and it seems impossible to talk about. I don’t think I can really tell you how much I feel for you, Simon. Not really, not right now.” 

He called me Simon again. My voice is confident and clear in what I say next, ringing throughout the woods as it settles in the air.

“Then why don’t you show me.”

I stand tall as Baz turns to look at me in shock. But my words seem to give him a new found confidence in the moment, because he strides towards me, only having to take a few steps before he has his hands on either side of my head with my back pressed up against the tree.

His face is even more overwhelming up close like this. I could touch my forehead to his with just a simple movement, even a month ago, he would be too close to me. But now, all I want him to do is move even closer.

I want to hold him so close that our bodies bleed into each other.

We breathe together, unsteady and awkward in the best way. He moves his hands from either side of my head, cupping my face in his hands, and inches his face closer like he’s still not sure if he’s allowed to touch me. His eyes flicker over my face and settle on my lips as I wait for him to kiss me.

But I grow too impatient to wait. I grab onto Baz’s shoulders (which are even nicer to put my hands around than I expected), and switch our places. Gently, I press him up against the tree before grabbing the sides of his face and bringing it down to mine.

And then  _ I  _ kiss  _ him. _

His lips are amazingly soft against mine, but the kiss is firm, solid. Enough to bring me back down to earth when my head’s been up in the air since the night of the party.

Kissing Baz is better than I ever could have imagined. He’s so soft in this moment that he practically melts in my arms. So soft that our bodies fit together in a perfect way that I never imagined they would. His lips taste sweet at first, like strawberry chapstick, but when he allows my tongue to slip past them it’s all smoke and blood. And I like the taste even more.

He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, grabbing at my curls and my shirt. He clutches the fabric in his fists, like he’s afraid if he loosens his grip on me for even a second, I’ll slip away from him. I want to tell him that he doesn’t need to hold me so tight, that I’m not going anywhere now that I have him where I want him. 

The kiss between us is raw, overflowing with the millions of words that we’ve wanted to say to each other. They drip off of my lips and onto his, sweet and slow. Like honey.

We break away from the kiss to breathe and both search eachothers faces to make sure that we’re both feeling the same thing. He looks like he’s trying to make sure that I’m real. It’s all so perfect, that I wouldn't be surprised if this was all a dream. But eventually, his face breaks into the biggest, cutest smile I’ve ever seen in my fucking life, teeth and all. And I know that it’s realest thing i’ve ever seen.

I smile back at him, happiness overflowing in my body until it travels up out of my mouth in the form of little laughs. He throws his arm around me, giggling in my ear as I pick him up and spin him around (I never knew that he was so light). We collapse next to each other in the grass, panting and laughing on our backs while we watch the clouds move across the sky.

Penny’s gonna freak the fuck out when I tell her about this later. I smile.

We lay in the grass for a while, talking quietly about anything that comes to our minds. He tells me that he's been spending the nights in Niall and Dev's room, and that he'd been coming here, into The Wavering Wood, so that he could avoid me during meals. I roll my eyes at him and call him an asshole, but then I tell him that I missed him so much that I thought I might've been going crazy, and he smiles that sweet smile at me again. Nothing but the sound of the wind fills my ears for a few minutes before Baz rolls onto his side to face me, I do the same, a small smile still plastered onto my face. He sighs happily as I tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. I never thought that he could exist like this. He’s still all sharp edges and dark eyes. Still fucking ruthless.

But he’s vulnerable now, and all smiley. I didn’t think that Baz Pitch could ever be vulnerable, I thought it was just something that was left out of his DNA.

He runs his fingers around the back of my ear and down to my jawline, making me shiver.

“You know, I’ve wanted to do that almost since I met you.” He says, speaking in the same way that made me want to cry of happiness when I was drunk. I blush, laughing with my hands over my face.

“You did a really shit job of showing it,” I tease. “I remember being pushed down the stairs.”

“I did not  _ push  _ you, Snow. You  _ fell. _ ”

“That’s what I remember, I’m not saying that's what actually happened.”

He laughs again, an angelic sound, really. “So you admit it!” 

I groan, lightly pushing his shoulder. The grass tickles my face as it moves with the wind. I could definitely get used to the way Baz looks right now, the tenseness that he had before has left his body, and he keeps on smiling without even noticing that he’s doing it. His eyes look like stars. I was starting to worry that I’d never be able to see his face up close again.

I shuffle closer to him, the tips of our noses nearly touching. “Don’t you have class right now?” I question.

“Not important. I’ve spent nearly half of my life wanting to kiss you, class can wait.” He pauses, reaching out to run his fingers from the crook of my neck all the way down to my hand, which he takes in his own. “Besides, I’d rather lay here and study you instead.” He says.

My smile is uncontrollable at that. I close the small space between us in no time, kissing him hungrily as I shift my body to be on top of his. I disconnect our lips, looking down at him. His dark hair is spread around him like a halo.

“You are such a fucking  _ sap,  _ Baz Pitch.” I tease.

“I’m your sap, now.”

I reach down and touch his face, because with the way he’s looking at me, I think I finally can. “You’ll let me be your terrible boyfriend?” I ask.

“You’re the only one I’d ever want to be my terrible boyfriend, Simon.” He whispers. 

He’s still a little bit scared, I know. It’s hidden deep beneath his eyes, only a little quieter now. But we’ll work through it. I couldn’t even stop thinking about Baz for one day, no matter how much I begged myself to. I wouldn’t be able to give him up that easily. But for now, I can only think to kiss him.

I’d spend the entire day kissing him, if I could.

Kissing Baz feels soft, yet firm. And my lips are a little chapped, but I know that he doesn’t care at all.

And I hold myself above him so I can make him reach up for me, just to see if he would.

And he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for reading :+))! I hope everyone who read this enjoyed it and can look forward to more writing from me in the future<3 This was really fun


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